We’ve been telling stories about alligators and foxes in recent days, so I suppose we should offer equal time to chickens:

Jim Carruth, of Lafayette, tells this one:

“Back in the early 1950s my dad worked at Standard Oil (Esso) in Baton Rouge.

“We had this big red chicken named Hennie Penny. Dad drove an early 1950 Chevy with a running board. He worked shift work, and night or day, when he left for work the chicken would jump on the running board and hitch a ride.

“Hennie would peck around the plant, and when dad got off his shift the chicken would again hitch a free ride back home.

“Regardless of the weather — rain, sleet or snow — the chicken for over two years never skipped a ride.

“The kids in the neighborhood would often watch my dad driving around town, and always there was that chicken.

“One afternoon dad returned home without his faithful hitch-hiker.

“We assumed that some family in need had chicken gumbo for supper that evening.

“The moral of this story is: ‘Never hitch a ride with a stranger, or you could find yourself in a lot of hot water.’”

Their own paper?

On Monday I told of the problem Advocate subscribers in Stanford Place are having with foxes, who steal their papers and take them to their nearby den.

I said our circulation department was pondering a solution to the problem.

Here’s Michel Fourrier’s suggestion:

“Since the Advocate’s circulation people know the foxes’ whereabouts, have the delivery person throw them their own copy.

“Yesterday’s edition would probably suffice.

“Maybe this would encourage the foxy fellows to skip the Stanford stash.”

Remembering Rose

Her obituary said Rose Rolfsen was 84, but to those of us who knew her she was ageless.

A redhead with unlimited energy, Rose was always on the go, and mostly to help others.

In her 70s and 80s she was still taking part in triathlons with her daughter in Tampa, Florida, to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Association. At home in Baton Rouge, she was active in St. Vincent de Paul, the Food Bank and many other worthy causes.

Of course, I knew her because of her numerous contributions to the column over the years.

Her last one, on May 12, told of a family vacation in Disney World when, as they were driving away, they discovered they were missing their 5-year-old daughter Beth (one of their seven children).

Rose said, “My husband was stopping when one of the boys hollered, ‘Don’t stop, she’s catching up with us!’”

Saturday morning, at the Smoked Meat Festival in Ville Platte, a gent came up to me and said, “How are you going to do your column now that Rose is gone?”

That’s a good question...

Fashion Corner

Elizabeth Dardeau contributes to our seminar on stylish Cajun footwear:

“Since I am a fan of yours, I want to provide you with whatever assistance I can.

“In response to Judy’s question in the Monday column regarding white boots, you forgot to include another fashion-forward ‘city’ where white rubber boots are a normal part of one’s wardrobe.

“Hence the name ‘Delcambre Reeboks.’ Happy to help.”

Good Samaritan

Stephen Dixon, of Baton Rouge, says, “On Sunday I was riding my bike along Kenilworth Boulevard, and had stopped to figure out why it was making a noise and not going as fast as I thought it should.

“Suddenly a young man stopped his vehicle and jumped out to assist.

“He had just gotten off work at Capitol Cyclery, where he is a bike mechanic.

“He made quick work of my issues — stopped the noise and the drag on the wheel.

“He then shook my hand, jumped back into his vehicle, and rode off into the sunset.

“I wish I knew his name in order to properly thank him.”

Special People Dept.

— Helen Rome Hebert, raised in Plaquemine and a Baton Rouge resident for more than 70 years, celebrated her 92nd birthday Monday, June 29, at The Haven.

— Paul and Theresa Paline celebrated 62 years of marriage on Saturday, June 27.

— Gene and Alice Robert, of Baton Rouge, celebrated their 56th anniversary on Saturday, June 27.

Unwelcome neighbor

One more alligator story, from Sarah Stravinska, of Chestnut:

“My first encounter of the gator kind was in Cocoa, Florida.

“I stepped outside with a bag of garbage for the can and there sat a gator.

“For a second I wondered if I stepped on his foot he’d open his mouth and I could drop the garbage in there — like a step-on can.

“Fish and game guys came over, put a lasso on his snout and walked him back across the street to a lake at Brevard Community College.

“Now I understood why the rent was so cheap at that house.”

Contacting Smiley

Write Smiley at Smiley@theadvocate.com. He can also be reached by fax at (225) 388-0351 or mail at P.O. Box 588, Baton Rouge, LA 70821.